


Dampened

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Dom Hux, sub Kylo [21]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: After they take over, Kylo thinks Hux wants one last thing.





	

Hux stands at the viewscreen, staring out into space.

He owns it.

He owns it all. It’s his to command, to rule, to organise. He can rout out disorder and chaos, he can make all the lines straight (or, at least, bent in ways he wishes). He can finally know he _won_. He _won_ , because he’s no longer something to be ashamed of, and he knows he no longer has to hold back his ambition, or his tongue.

His fingers want to touch the transparisteel, like they had when he was younger. Smear his name in the oil from his fingers, relieved from gloves. Gasped breaths and his name written there, wondering how long before the maintenance crew would wipe him clean.

He doesn’t need to, not now. He rules it all… or, he does, in tandem with his beloved Knight. 

His beloved Knight, who should be here, and is not. 

Sometimes the whims of the Force still move Kylo Ren, and Hux just sits on the little bundle of nerves he feels. He’d never felt disconcerted about being alone before Kylo, but then he’d never let anyone truly be part of him before. To begin with, he wrote it off as just being Kylo’s own insecurity bleeding through, but later he’d realised _he_ missed him, as well. 

He’d felt worry for him. Concern. A genuine desire to see him safe. He’d felt better when he was in the room, even if they weren’t talking. Not to the extent that it would ruin his day or activities, but that his dark, shrouded presence was a bonus whenever it was around. A reassurance that Kylo was safe, and a counterpoint to him. He could rest assured that Kylo would be ready to leap to his defence if needed (which… okay… was both flattering and frustrating), and that they could then process and discuss the actions and issues of the day and…

Also he just kind of wanted to know he was happy. Like. It mattered. He did things with the sole intention being ‘it would make Kylo happy’. Not for a further goal down the line, not for sex, not for an easier life. But because it would make Kylo happy.

Falling in love had been nowhere on his list when they started fooling around. He hadn’t even known he was capable, though he should have expected Kylo would fall for him. The man idolised emotions like they were the rules and orders Hux loved. And Kylo’s whirlwind worship had been so very, very addictive that he’d been a welcome bedmate, and later…

Later. Love. It had terrified him, and elated him, and then they’d taken over the galaxy. Incredible what you could do when you–

The door opens, and Kylo comes in with a box. Hux sees his reflection in the viewscreen, waits for him to approach. 

“What is it?” he asks, when Kylo stops at his side.  


The man holds the box up, and Hux turns to open it. Inside, there’s a collar. It’s heavy, and finished with a lock. 

They have bed toys, but this looks more sturdy than most of them. “You know it’s usually traditional for the collar to be _given_ , not brought.”

“This one is different,” Kylo says.  


“How so?”  


“The Force.”  


The man - though he loves him - is still as truculent and impenetrable as ever on some days. Hux does not have the Force, and so does not understand, and Kylo’s insistence on keeping things ethereal and distant makes his teeth chalk. 

“Yes?”  


“It removes it.”  


Hux frowns, then reaches in to lift it out. It feels the same as any other collar, if well made. He wonders how Kylo got this, or where from? Was it part of an old training regime? 

“You want to use it… for fun?”  


“You have no more enemies for me to slay,” Kylo says, dropping to one knee and putting the box aside. His head bows, his neck offered willingly.  


Hux feels conflicting things. On the one hand: Kylo kneeling is beautiful, perfect, right. Such a strong man, so willing to bow to _him_ , and no other. He feels the thrill of control whenever they exchange power, and it’s something private and special which he’d like to remain that way. People could wonder, but he would never let them know Kylo craved it. His gift was for them. If he wanted the world to know, he could say so, but Hux would never ‘out’ him without his consent.

On the other hand… 

“Kylo, why have you brought this to me?”  


“You don’t need the Force,” is the reply, and a confused Knight looks up. “I am dangerous to you.”  


“Why would you say that?”  


“…I have the Force…”  


“And have you ever used it against me, in all our days together?”  


His face is pinkening, and Hux reaches out to stroke over his hair, trying to soothe the worry he can feel in his frame. 

“No, Sir.”  


“Kylo… we can do this, if you want to, but we don’t _have_ to. Your Force powers aren’t…”  


He sees the startled reaction.

“You thought I wanted this?”  


Kylo tries to walk away on his knees, and Hux has to grab his shoulder to still him.

“I’m sorry. I - I thought you–”  


“Kylo, come with me.”  


Sometimes Kylo needs a bit of physical action and the momentary distance to work through things. It helps him process, and Hux guides him to the couch. 

They sit a little away from one another, because Kylo is still clearly in one of ‘those’ moods, when he’s feeling vulnerable and needing Hux to take over. Hux puts the collar to one side, and holds his hand out for Kylo to take it.

“I thought… you would want it?” the Knight says, obviously not sure of the situation,n ow.  


“…when did you get this idea?”  


“…don’t know.”  


“…did you think that was my goal, all along? To use you for your abilities, then cast them aside?” What did Kylo think of him, that he was another Snoke, another Skywalker? Seeing him only for what he could do for him?  


“Thought… you’d not want… the risk.” Kylo tries to pull his hands away, then looks pleadingly up when he isn’t allowed free. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy.”  


Hux tangles fingers in his hair, and pulls his head under his chin, giving him the space to lean into him, to seek his comfort. He won’t force it, but it only takes a moment for the Knight to ease against him. 

“You’re not just a tool to me, love,” he whispers, using the endearment that still feels strange on his tongue, but which makes Kylo blossom every time he can bring himself to speak the truth. “I didn’t fall for you because of what you could do, but who you _are_.”  


“I’m _dangerous_ ,” Kylo bleats. “You know it! You know I’ve–”  


“You’re dangerous,” he agrees, “…because you’re a threat - you _were_ a threat - to the Jedi, to Snoke. But you’re not a threat to me.”  


Kylo blinks furiously, and looks up at him. “I’m not?”

“No. You’re not. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not about to demand you lock away parts of yourself, unless you’d feel safer doing it. And even then, it wouldn’t be permanent, just as long as you would need.”  


“…” Kylo shakes in his arms, clutching fiercely, and Hux doesn’t know if it’s relief or terror.  


“You’re not dangerous to me,” Hux says, stroking him so very gently. “You’re beautiful and powerful, and I love you. You’re so very, very strong. And…” It sticks in his throat. “I’m honoured that you would offer me this, but I want you to think about it deeply. You don’t need to change who you are for me. If you want me to take things away for a while, I can do, but you do it because _you_ need it, not **me**.”  


There’s a long, long silence. Kylo shudders, and then nods. “Thank you. I… think maybe only sometimes. If you want to.”

“Sometimes,” Hux agrees. “You’re free, now, Kylo. You don’t need to be anything but yourself. Remember? No one to control you. You’re free.”  


His Knight kisses his throat, gratitude in every touch, and Hux feels that angry-tight sensation of protective, possessive love again. The need to make him safe, the need to make him happy. It turns his hands to fists some days, or makes him want to burn half the galaxy down… but sometimes it’s fixed with something as simple as a kiss, and a firm embrace.

He loves him. And love doesn’t demand you mutilate yourself. No matter what his family thought.


End file.
